


After After Hours

by glitsune



Category: The Office (US)
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, Masturbation, Missing Scene, Season/Series 08, Unresolved Sexual Tension, cheating?, it's not very jim/pam friendly I guess, or like very close to cheating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-10-20 04:42:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20669507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitsune/pseuds/glitsune
Summary: Set after the season eight episode 'After Hours'. Jim and Dwight are sharing a bed, after Jim avoids being seduced by Cathy and Dwight is hiding from Nellie. Both are very sexually frustrated but assume they'll be more than safe around each other. That proves untrue.





	After After Hours

For a moment, Jim was about to ask why exactly Nellie Bertram was scratching at Dwight’s hotel door, but then he went back to his dessert. After all, even if he was too oblivious to realise (which was a blessing in itself), Dwight had already done him a favour by chasing Cathy out of his room. And another by letting him stay here for the night. Jim owed him one, and he guessed that meant just lying still in the dark and eating in silence. 

What was kind of surprising was how long it took Nellie to give up on getting into the room. After another moment of apparently peering beneath the door, there was a prolonged rattling of the handle. Dwight and Jim had by this time both finished their desserts, carefully placed the plates to the side as quietly as possible, and Dwight had thrown a sheet over them both. Jim felt like he shouldn’t just go to sleep fully dressed, but then he realised that the alternative was to strip to his underwear and sharing a bed with Dwight already felt uncomfortably intimate. Although nowhere near as weird as it should have felt, or how he would have expected it to feel just a couple of years ago. He supposed that somewhere along the way they’d developed something that, if it wasn’t quite friendship, was a sort of… well, he wasn’t quite sure what, but something where he felt kind of comfortable in Dwight’s company. 

“I think she’s gone,” Jim said softly after a minute or two of silence. 

“Shh!” Dwight hissed, clamping a hand over Jim’s mouth.

His fingers were warm and smelled faintly of the banana dessert he’d been eating. Jim tried to pull his hand away automatically, indignant, but Dwight was always stronger than he expected.

“Is that Jim?” Nellie asked, her voice muffled as though she was trying to speak directly against the wooden door, and perhaps a little slurred from drinking “Terribly sorry, I seem to have got the wrong room.” 

The two of them held still, Dwight’s hand still pressed firmly over Jim’s mouth, listening intently to what sounded like shuffling, retreating footsteps. It sounded like that had done the trick: she had gone. As though he had read Jim’s mind, Dwight leaned in to whisper almost directly into his ear: “stay quiet, you fool. It’s probably a trick.” 

And because maybe they still weren’t quite out of the petty childish rivalry stage, Jim bit Dwight’s hand, his teeth catching the fleshy inside of the man’s palm. Dwight pulled back a moment, reacting by roughly shoving two fingers into Jim’s mouth, surprising him so much he almost choked, but caught himself, eyes watering. 

“What the hell, Dwight?” he tried to say, but it came out in a muffled kind of groan. 

“Do you ever shut up?” Dwight growled against the shell of his ear, his voice low and deep at this range. 

Jim had sworn to himself, over and over again, that all that nonsense with Cathy had absolutely no effect on him. But there must have been some kind of impact, deep down, because he felt ridiculously pent up right now, and suddenly it occurred to him that maybe Dwight was in the same situation after apparently seducing Nellie to the point that she was coming to his room to hook up. But that was a thought that he didn’t really want to dwell on. Besides, shouldn’t being in close proximity to Dwight dampen any sexual tension he was still feeling rather than increase it? But Dwight’s fingers pressing against his tongue, that didn’t just feel like he was trying to make him be quiet. And he should have just grabbed Dwight’s hand to pull it away, and yet....

He was playing with fire, he knew that, but it was in his nature. Or at least, it was with Dwight. It was the dynamic they’d always had. Pushing against each other in one way or another. And it made it easier to tell himself that he was still just pushing to try and gross Dwight out, to get him to pull his hand back in disgust. That’s the thought he held in his mind as he deliberately sucked on Dwight’s fingers, the blood pounding in his ears as he repeated: it was just another prank, a dare, a game of chicken. He was just trying to win.    
  
And yet, as he felt Dwight pulling his fingers back, he felt as though a lead weight had dropped through his stomach. And then, as Dwight thrust them back, deep past the second knuckle, as though he was  _ fucking _ Jim’s mouth… a little of the veneer of ambiguity fell away. Maybe there was still enough chance to pull it back, to wrench away, to laugh and ask Dwight if he really thought that Jim was into this. It would have been one of the cruellest things he had ever done, but he could. He’d be saving his own ass at least. But he didn’t.    
  
He hadn’t really been aware of Dwight reaching towards him, but suddenly the other man’s free hand was on his belt, deftly undoing the buckle with surprising ease, and Jim finally yanked himself free. 

  
“What are you doing?”  
  
“Sorry,” Dwight said good-naturedly “Do you want to take your own pants off?”  
  
“What? No, I…” he pinched the bridge of his nose “I mean: what are we both doing?”   
  
“Just relieving a little tension.”   
  
“Yeah but… we can’t just do that. I’m married.”   
  
“Oh, tchh,” Dwight scoffed with a mocking cluck of the tongue “Get over yourself, Jim. I’m not interested in you. It’s just biology. Have you never taken care of your own erections without your wife present? I guess that does explain a lot.”   
  
“That’s… I can’t believe I have to explain this to you. If somebody else is involved then that’s sex.”   
  
“False. I’m not sexually interested in you.”   
  
Now it was Jim’s turn to scoff. Even in the dark, he was aware of the flush on Dwight’s cheek, the way his voice had dropped in pitch to a deep rumble, and even from here he was pretty sure he could see a distinctive tenting in his slacks. Not that he was in a different boat himself. He was painfully aware, almost literally painfully, of his own erection. As much as he was trying to ignore it. And really, he didn’t know what was worse: the possibility that he had been turned on by a woman who wasn’t his wife and was now still feeling the effects or her attempted seduction.... or that he was turned on by Dwight K Schrute.   
  
“Whatever. In my marriage, if somebody who isn’t my wife touches my dick, we count that as cheating.”   
  
“Hmm!” Dwight seemed taken aback by that “What if you touch somebody else’s dick?”   
  
“Yeah, I mean.... do you want me to touch your dick, Dwight?”   
  
There was no doubt about it, Dwight’s cheeks were even redder than before, and he avoided Jim’s eyes. Jim couldn’t help it, he loved that. He loved teasing Dwight. The image came into his mind unbidden of Dwight begging him, pleading to be touched, and he had to fight hard to drive it away. Those kinds of thoughts were dangerous.   
  
“It’s just mechanical,” Dwight muttered “It’s nothing personal. You could be anybody. In fact, I wish you were anybody else. I find you repulsive.”  
  
“Same back at you, buddy,” Jim retorted “But hey like no offense but you’ve been ‘the other guy’ in relationships before. Wasn’t Angela cheating on Andy with you? I think you’ve kinda lost perspective on what’s appropriate here.”   
  
“Ha! I guess that’s true. But that was different. I had no respect for Andy, and enjoyed making a cuckold out of him. I have a lot of respect for Pam as a person, and a friend.”  
  
Jim nodded soberly, amazed that there was a sort of logic there, if a twisted one. God, he’d thought that driving Cathy away and staying with Dwight would mean that the very prospect of any temptation would be far behind. But then how could he have possibly seen this coming?   
  
“Maybe we should just go to sleep.”   
  
Maybe he should excuse himself to the bathroom to jerk off. It felt like such an admission of guilt though. He knew that he was hard, and he was pretty sure that Dwight knew, but maybe if he just stayed still on his back like this forever then it would be tomorrow and this would all be over.   
  
“You can sleep if you want. Do you mind if I masturbate?”   
  
It was amazing how Dwight was still capable of coming out with things that made Jim feel like he was talking to an alien.   
  
“What, right here?”   
  
“Yes. I prefer to lie down. By the way, I’d recommend dealing with yours as well. If you go to sleep with an erect penis, the blood can clot and travel to your brain. You’ll probably have an aneurysm and never wake up again.”   
  
“Dwight, there’s no way that’s true,” Jim said, because he didn’t even know where to start with the rest of that.   
  
“If you’d rather leave, I should be finished in ten to fifteen minutes.”   
  
Later, looking back at this moment, Jim could see so many moments where he was given the opportunity to bail. This was a pretty major one. Even at the time, he knew he was being given an out here. Intellectually, he knew that he could leave at any point, of course. He was an adult with free will. And really, he should have appreciated the way that deep down Dwight was making him well aware that he didn’t have to do anything. But it felt as though he would rather not have to make that decision himself.   
  
In many ways it should have been easier to leave. He had left Cathy just a couple of hours ago in what he supposed was a very similar situation. But it seemed like he just… wasn’t moving.   
  
“Just get on with it,” he said with feigned disinterest, picking up the TV remote and flipping until he found some reality TV show that was engaging enough that he hoped it could distract him.   
  
There was a pause, and then he heard Dwight shifting besides him. Earlier it had seemed as though the queen bed was plenty big enough for the both of them but now Dwight seemed incredibly close to him. Jim kept his eyes on the television but, even though the volume was up as high as he dared, he still thought that he could hear Dwight’s zip being pulled down, and he could definitely feel him doing…. something. The mattress beneath them was shaking gently and Jim gritted his teeth, not sure why exactly he was putting himself through this. To test himself, to prove to himself that he wasn’t going to do anything? Or because leaving felt just as much of an admission of guilt? Or…   
  
There were definitely noises going on. Soft, slick, skin on skin. Occasionally, a grunt, an intake of breath, a moan. Jim had always imagined, and fuck knows why the thought had crossed his head but it had, that Dwight would be completely stoic while masturbating. That it would be purely functional. But the reality was… well, why had he expected Dwight to keep it down? He was pretty sure that he was being drawn into a game of chicken that he had walked right into and probably was already losing. After all, he was still rock hard and felt dizzy by either the pure lust or the effort it was taking to try and push all of this out of his mind and think about something else for long enough for his senses to return.   
  
He gritted his teeth, staring unblinkingly at the TV screen. He hadn’t been following anything that was going on, and now it was the commercials. It was impossible to say how much time was going by. Surely it had been ten minutes, but then again it could have been twenty. This had to be over soon. Unless Dwight was dragging it out on purpose.   
  
Just as he thought that, Dwight groaned from next to him, a strangled filthy sort of noise that made Jim’s dick twitch in his pants and he barely thought about what he was doing as he leapt up from the bed, threw himself in the direction of the en suite, made it through the door and slammed it behind him. He only paused to make sure the door was locked before shoving his pants down.   
  
His dick slapped against his stomach, leaking and desperate to be touched, and he braced himself with one palm against the wall, his forehead meeting the cold tiles as he gripped himself and started to stroke, rough and uneven. He felt like a teenager, so in need of release that he needed to excuse himself to the bathroom, and so embarrassed that people would know what he was doing that he needed to get it over with as quickly as possible.   
  
He didn’t care if Dwight knew what he was doing. He didn’t want to think about Dwight at all, back on the bed, touching his own dick. He wondered what Dwight’s dick looked like. Dwight had claimed before now that he’d circumcised himself, but he never knew whether to believe anything Dwight said. Fuck, he needed to stop thinking about Dwight’s dick.   
  
But he couldn’t think about Pam, his stomach churned with guilt as her face flashed across his mind. He pushed it away. He had to just get this over with. Maybe just think about nothing at all. Yeah, push everything out of his mind. He gritted his teeth, moving his hand more rapidly. Unbidden, the image now in his mind was of Dwight, quietly stepping into the bathroom behind him, not saying a word, pushing Jim’s hand away impatiently to take control of jerking him off.   
  
Jim felt heat pulse in his groin, and a lump form in his throat. It was only thoughts, and he wanted to finish this, in the hopes that this madness was short-lived and would fade as soon as he came. It was just a gross weird fantasy based on some imagined version of his co-worker/frenemy. He could lean into that for a minute. It wasn’t real.   
  
In his mind, Dwight had one hand on his dick, the other hand roaming over his front and exploring the planes of his chest, pushing under his shirt to pinch a nipple. He’d chuckle, then, low and deep into Jim’s ear. His body would be pressed up close to Jim’s, and maybe Jim could feel his erection pushed against his ass, fuck! Jim was jerking his dick faster, and in his mind it was Dwight who was touching him rough and fast, murmuring something filthy into his ear, something like “you like the way my hand feels on your cock, Jim? Do you want me to let you cum?”  
  
Fuck, Jim couldn’t stop to analyse any of this because then the whole depravity of all of this would be laid bare, but it did very briefly cross his mind that it was another layer of messed up that his immediate fantasy was of Dwight acting in charge, bossing him around. That probably said something about him that he really didn’t want to address right now.   
  
So then Dwight would be touching him, just how he liked, and Jim was so close, teeth clenched, breath coming fast through his nostrils. He’d be leaning back against the other man, letting him prop him up, letting him manipulate his body with his hands. Fast images flashed through his head as he got closer, his brain seeming to just be searching for anything he wanted. Would he let Dwight bite him? Fuck, he thought maybe he wanted that right now. Pull his hair, hard? What if Dwight spun him around, slammed him against the wall, slid down his body to take him in his mouth? Fuck. Imagine, Dwight’s hands holding roughly onto his hips, if he sucked Jim off. His hot wet tongue laving the swollen head. His glasses askew, or steamed up, or taking them off altogether and tossing them to the side to focus on pleasuring Jim. Dark heated eye flicking up to meet his, a deliberate smirk on his face… and what if Jim, gently cradling the back of his head, came deep in his throat and _watched him swallow_?   
  
That was it. With a groan he couldn’t stifle, he shuddered and came hard over his fist and the toilet bowl, frozen in time for a moment until he’d finished and could silently start to clean up on autopilot. It was intense enough that he felt like he could still see stars when he opened his eyes. He felt sweaty and shaken and avoided looking at the mirror. He couldn’t face it. At least he’d been right that most of the lust would fade, but now he just felt kind of ashamed of himself.   
  
He hadn’t really been paying attention to how much time had gone by, so after he’d washed his hands he just leant on the wall and waited. It was probably pretty obvious what he’d been doing, but he wasn’t going to advertise it, and he didn’t want to walk in while Dwight was still… busy. God, what the fuck was even happening.   
  
“Dwight, I’m coming back in,” he said after at least a couple of agonising minutes, when he thought it must be safe by now.   
  
“Alright,” came the reply from the main room; as always, sounding like Dwight was amazed Jim felt the need to tell him this.   
  
He pushed open the door. After a while of weighing it up he’d ended up taking off his jumper and trousers, wearing a vest and boxers, just as though he had been getting ready for bed. Everything was normal. To be honest, he hadn’t known what he was going to walk back into, but Dwight seemed to be just under the covers, as though he’d been trying to get to sleep. Jim walked over and slid into his place, wordlessly turning to lie on his side, facing the opposite direction to Dwight. Neither of them spoke. He doubted Dwight felt any particular kind of way about any of this, definitely not the mix of awkwardness and shame Jim felt right now. Usually awkward situations were ones where Jim felt like he had to joke to fill the silence, but right now he couldn’t think of anything to say. At least he could just pretend he was going to sleep, while in reality he stayed awake for hours after that, listening to Dwight’s snoring, trying to think about anything other than the fact that he’d been so tempted, so close, to break his marriage vows with a man he barely liked. Well no, that wasn’t quite true, they were no longer enemies even if they weren’t quite friends, but he definitely didn’t like him in that way.  
  
But at least, he kept reminding himself, he hadn’t done anything. It had been weird, and too close for comfort, but he hadn’t done it. He had wanted to, and he guessed he’d have to try and work out at some point what the hell that meant, but for now, he hadn’t done anything. And eventually, having temporarily calmed his conscience, he fell asleep.   
  
Of course, it seemed like Jim just couldn’t catch a break right now, when he awoke several hours later, on the day when they were meant to be opening a new store front, bleary and exhausted and with Dwight Shrute’s heavy sleeping body draped over him. There was an arm wrapped around his chest, a head resting on his shoulder, and a thigh slung over his hips. And an erection digging against his leg, only inches away from his own hard dick. Well, _fuck_. 


End file.
